The Squeeze of My Life
My March round of chemo came just after my return from traveling, so the down time was almost a welcome relief, even if I didn't feel so hot for a week or so. When it was over, I started to exercise again, even rode a horse a few times. (Woot!) I was even thinking about teaching some riding lessons. Getting into a routine felt normal, and I've been craving some normalcy for so long. It's spring, after all, the perfect time to start making some plans!
Then it was time for my April (this week's) round of chemo. The day before I was to start, I told my brother, "I'm not even nervous this time! This one will be easy, I just know it."
Easy. I said it. And I believed it. But easy it was not. It's been a rough week. Chemo was as bad as I remembered it, if not even just a smidge yuckier this time.
I spent most of the week that I was not in bed in a puddle on the couch. Just pouring myself from one horizontal surface to the next. Catching my breath on the toilet every time I had walk to the bathroom. Spending a lot - too much - time reflecting on the absence of normal in my life. The absence of normal in Boyfriend's life, too.
Then I went to my Cancer Support group last night, and the evening's focus was the caregivers and significant others of the cancer patients and survivors. "Cancer Couples Night", if you will.
Boyfriend and I shared our two cents about how hard we've worked over the last year to find our way in the maze that is brain cancer, unemployment, and Medi-Cal. And despite all of our hard work and effort, sometimes it seems like it will never end. And we listened every other couples' story, and realized, They're doing it. We're doing it. And suddenly the only feeling I had left was amazed, awestruck gratitude for the man sitting to my left, squeezing my hand as we talked. My teammate. Squeezing my hand as we listened. My biggest fan. Squeezing my hand and wiping my tears when I cried. My superhero.
Thank you, Eric, for showing me how to love and be loved. You are the squeeze of my life.